Object of Desires
by concretedandelion
Summary: Bested by the object of his desires, Jareth sulks in his castle and tries to find a way to claim the girl as his own once and for all. Sarah, gone back to her life in the Aboveground, cannot forget her adventures with the enigmatic Goblin King, try as she might to move on from her childish fantasies. Will they find their way back to each other? Perhaps with a little help...
1. A Note From Me to You

Hello to you all!

This is the only the third fanfic I've ever attempted, and the first inspired by Labyrinth. I have enjoyed creative writing my entire life and just recently got into fanfic within the past year, so I am quite new to the whole process and beg your patience.

I'd like to ask all of you in advance to please review if the mood strikes you, and to follow/favorite if you enjoy what you read - not to stroke my ego or anything, just to let me know that someone, somewhere is getting something, anything out of my Jareth's-bulge-fueled ramblings.

Please be gentle, drop me a line if you'd like, and most importantly... enjoy!


	2. Chapter 1

Streaks of blue lightning cut across a hazy purple sky and illuminated the barren landscape below. What had once been a fragrant grove of lush peach trees was now little more than a graveyard of twisted husks and gnarled roots delving the parched earth for sustenance and finding none. Bitter, stagnant winds whipped through dilapidated stone walls, causing a plaintive howl to resonate relentlessly through the lands. Fountains and statues sculpted meticulously by renowned artisans had been reduced to piles of rubble in a mere fraction of the time they had taken to create. Jareth, the Goblin King, sighed as he surveyed his kingdom, or at least, what was left of it.

At one time, Jareth's kingdom had been one of the grandest in the Underground. The king was well known for his opulent lifestyle and generosity toward those few he considered friends, and his ruthlessness and cruelty toward those foolish enough to get on his bad side. His grand labyrinth had been the topic of countless stories, songs, poems, and other artistic endeavors throughout the centuries, and indeed it had once been a sight to behold. There seemed to be an endless stream of lords from various kingdoms showing up with tributes of good faith and an equally endless stream of noble ladies come calling for the monarch himself, who had been considered the most eligible bachelor in all the realms for as long as anyone could remember. Some were politically ambitious and were let down gently, others simply wanted a roll between the sheets and found that the debonair Goblin King was happy to oblige them. Jareth had been content with his life – content to rule, content to be served, content to be master of his domain and everything in it. No one would dare to challenge or defy him. His existence, while at times predictable and monotonous, had been comfortable. Until _she_ had come along.

With one last look at the shattered remains of his life's work, Jareth moved away from the window and went to sit at his throne. The room was dark and quiet, as it often was since _she_ had left. The goblin revelers that had once danced and drank at the foot of their king's throne were too scared of his prevailing dark moods to show their faces in his court and had fled with their kegs and livestock to the taverns that were scattered throughout the Goblin City. Jareth had always feigned annoyance at the ever-present merrymakers, but inwardly he had been delighted and amused by their antics and was stung by their absence, though he well understood why they had left and couldn't say he blamed them. He knew he was now insufferable more often than not and sometimes he could hardly stand to be around himself. He draped a lean leg over one of the arms of his throne and stared into the darkness, his chin resting thoughtfully on a gloved hand. Jareth found himself in a reflective mood and couldn't help but think about the object of his darkest fantasies.

Sarah. Spoken aloud, her name caressed his tongue like a fine brandy, fiery and sweet. In his mind, it evoked images of her sleek raven tresses, piercing emerald eyes, and creamy porcelain skin. The soft scrunch of his supple leather glove reverberated off of the cold stone walls as he flexed his hand, eyes closed, jaw gritted, trying to will away the burning desire that always came with this train of thought. Still, pointless and painful as his current inquiries were, he could not bear to tear himself away just yet. She was intoxicating to him; a drug far more dangerous and addictive than anything he could have purchased on a street corner. All he had to do was inhale deeply and he could still smell her, a mixture of the milk and honey lotion she always used and her own unique aroma, effortlessly light and feminine. Some nights as he lay in his bedchamber he swore he could hear her soft tinkling laughter on the wind, pleading with him to come to her.

He was the marooned seafarer to her siren, delirious and exhausted and unable to resist the pull of her song. Gods, how she had ruined him, spoiled him, broken him. Frustration and hurt lashed through his mind. What a fool he had been to give of himself so freely to her. He knew she had been too young to understand his true motives but he was not a patient man. His mind and body had ached for her, and the only way he had known to abate his hunger was to immerse himself in her charms, consequences be damned. In the end, he had all but groveled at her feet in a pathetic display of weakness. He had been so desperate to keep her and so fearful of losing her that he had thrown caution to the wind and poured his very heart and soul into his final words to her… but even that had not been enough to convince her of his intentions, his devotion. His love.

Aboveground, years had passed since she had left him. Underground, it had only been a few months. At first, Jareth had mourned her absence the way a blind man mourns the sun as he feels its warming rays on his skin but cannot begin to fathom what it looks like. Slowly, the melancholy had turned to anger: anger at her presumptions and demands, anger at her pig-headedness and petulance, anger at her defiance and refusal to submit. Then, as he had continued to watch her from afar and noted her transition from lanky teenager to voluptuous young woman, his anger had turned into unbridled lust and the urge to reclaim her. Her quick mind and sharp tongue had captured his interest when she was just a child, and he had to admit to himself that he had found her very charming even at fifteen. If he had merely been smitten with her then, he was downright obsessed with her now. The realization that she exceeded even his wildest fantasies in every way had steeled his nerves and brought him to a very important decision: one way or another, she would be his. His, and only his. Forever.

A knock on the large doors to the throne room shook Jareth from his musings. He said nothing and simply stared in the direction of the sound. Whoever it was, they were brave. That, or stupid. Few people dared to disturb the Goblin King those past few months, and even fewer of them had escaped imprisonment in one of his dank oubliettes.

After a few silent moments, the great doors flung open and light from the torch-lined hallway filtered into the room. A black silhouette stood against the flickering light, hands on hips, and Jareth strained his eyes to focus on its features. He didn't have to wonder who it was for long. The figure strolled toward him and with a snap of its fingers the sconces around the circular room blazed to life and illuminated the chamber with soft firelight. The Goblin King stared up dourly into the face of his older brother.

The two Fae brothers shared the same angular face and lean, sinewy physique, though Jareth was a might taller. While Jareth's flaxen hair was long and straight, his older brother's was curly and barely brushed his collar. The annoyed, mismatched gaze of the younger sibling was met with delight in the stormy grey orbs of his visitor.

"Dear brother, I had heard rumors that you had taken to spending your evenings moping about in the darkness, but I truly had to see it to believe it. Why you insist on torturing yourself over that pettish little tart is beyond me."

"Be careful, Jeriah. Brother though you may be, I am still the king here. You would dare speak of my future queen in such a manner?"

His brother scoffed. "A queen? _Her_? You really have lost it. You couldn't even get her to kiss you and you're already planning a royal wedding. Do you think she'll get creative and scratch your eyes out when you try to drag her down the aisle, or just stick to convention and knee you in the groin?"

Jareth seethed. "Is there some point to your presence in my kingdom, brother? Surely you haven't come all this way just to get in a few infantile jabs."

The older sibling grinned, revealing sharkish teeth. "Mother said she wrote you and told you I was coming. Have you been too busy sulking to bother checking the post? I've been making a tour of the realms, you see, and yours just so happened to be next on the list. I just left the kingdom of the forest spirits; Princess Fawnah sends her regards and bids you to call on her. Lovely girl, she is. Very… sweet, in more ways than one." His eyes gleamed lasciviously.

Jareth rolled his eyes at his brother's antics. By tradition, Jeriah had had the first chance to become the Goblin King, but had refused even in adolescence to be groomed for the role. He was a free spirit and a drifter, using his status, wealth, and charms to venture from one leisurely pursuit to the next, women not excluded. He was intelligent and cunning, but lacked the zeal and pragmatism to rule. On the contrary, Jareth had taken to the monarchy like a moth to a flame.

The king dismissed the notion with a wave of his leather-encased hand. "Yes, I'm sure she's very enchanting. Feel free to run back to the dryads whenever the mood strikes you; I'm afraid I've already tired of your foolishness."

Jeriah laughed, "Oh, Jareth. What ever will I do with you? I'd love to stay and have more fun at your expense but I find myself weary from my travels. Certainly you can spare a room for your dear old brother?"

A snap of Jareth's fingers was all it took for one of the goblin pages waiting stoically in the hall to come running. He prostrated himself at the feet of his king, fearful yet hopeful. The young goblin truly loved and admired his king and had been waiting patiently for him to go back to being his old self. This was the first his king had called upon him in weeks.

"Show my brother to the Gold Room. Draw a bath and have a hot meal delivered to him there." The goblin nodded eagerly and moved to the door, waiting for the king's brother to follow.

Jeriah flashed a wicked grin and gave an exaggerated bow. "Much obliged, Your Majesty. I shall bid you good night and leave you to stew over your little coquette until the morrow." With a flourish, he turned and strolled leisurely behind the goblin, flinging the doors to the throne room shut with a clap of his hands.

The room was once again bathed in darkness and, never one to disappoint, Jareth reveled in it. He let the gloom envelop him and found himself gazing out the window at the starless sky. As he wallowed in his self-imposed misery, he wondered what his Sarah was doing at that very moment. Did she ache with need like he did, unable to understand why she felt so unfulfilled, no matter what she did to try to take her mind off of it? Want had turned him into a glutton for punishment. He held out his palm and conjured a crystal. There, in that perfect sphere of glass, lay his dreams.

Fire surged through Sarah's veins as she jogged her usual path around the park, her limbs wailing in protest at being forced into labor. The early morning chill pinkened her cheeks and turned her ragged breaths into opaque crystalline puffs. It was not yet dawn and by all rights the girl should still have been in bed, but fitful slumber had eluded her all night and, weary of her tossing and turning and fevered dreams, she had finally given up and forced herself to rise. With a heavy sigh, she increased her pace and drifted off into thought, comforted by the sound of her soft footfalls against the pavement.

The dreams. They had decreased in intensity and frequency over time, but nonetheless they plagued her and had a habit of showing up when she least expected them. She'd never had the same one twice, but for the last three years, all her dreams had shared the same central theme: _him_. Not once since her visit to the Underground had she dreamt of anything else – his mismatched eyes, always twinkling with mischief, his mocking voice and the way he made her feel barely two feet tall, the almost palpable air of regality and dominance that seemed to follow him like a shadow.

For a while after her initial encounters with the Goblin King, she had actually tried to convince herself the entire thing had just been a very realistic nightmare; after all, who would believe that she had summoned a legendary member of Fae royalty to take her baby brother from the mortal realm, and had fought and won against said Fae royalty to bring him back? She had attempted to attribute the "nightmare" and subsequent recurring dreams to her vivid imagination and affinity for all things fantastical, and her denial had actually worked for a while… that is, until her nighttime fantasies had started bleeding into her everyday life.

The first incident had been one evening after school when Karen had sent her to the store for some milk and bread. The trip had taken her no time at all and the small amount of trust her stepmother had placed in her had put her into a good mood, so she had decided to go the extra mile and put the groceries away. As she reached her hand into the paper sack, it came into contact with something round and soft, but firm. Sarah had gasped and dropped it immediately; there was no question in her mind about what it was – she could barely stand even the smell of peaches since…

Sarah shuddered and slowed to catch her breath near a large tree. Actually having the dreams was one thing, but taking time to reflect on them later was another thing entirely. She didn't like to think about them; it made her uncomfortable and confused and some other swirl of emotions she couldn't quite identify. Most of all she just couldn't figure out why she was having the dreams to begin with, or why little reminders of her time in the Underground had started popping up all around her. She had bested the Goblin King at his own game and won Toby back fair and square. She had put the childish books and toys and costumes behind her and had even stopped calling on the friends she had made in order to distance herself further from the labyrinth. She had moved on with her life and grown into a level-headed young woman quite far removed from the impetuous child she had once been.

As she stood with her back to the large tree, her breath finally slowing and her muscles thanking her for the brief reprieve, an owl hooted nearby, slicing through the calm pre-dawn air like a machete through silk. Sarah jumped away from the tree and whipped her head around, trying to spot the source of the interruption. There, she saw it – maybe ten feet away, a large golden barn owl perched high in an old maple tree, its back to the waning moon, staring directly at her. It hooted again, almost in recognition of her notice. She shivered reflexively as she gazed at the bird. To her, it looked wise and sentient, as though it was purposefully watching her and waiting to gauge her next move. It was then that she knew why she had been having the dreams.

Her heart pounded wildly within her chest and she could hear the blood rushing through her head. _Jareth_. Just thinking his name sent her senses into overdrive. The relentless dreams of opulent ballrooms and stolen kisses under an indigo sky, the peaches, the crystals rolling out of sight around corners, the hauntingly familiar music playing over the loudspeakers at the mall that only she could hear, the grandfather clock in the hallway chiming thirteen times at midnight… it had all been him. She was sure of it now, surer than she had ever been about anything in her entire life. He had re-inserted himself into her life and had refused to let go, even after years had passed and she had done all she could to forget he existed. Somehow this knowledge did not frighten, though she knew it should, as much as it perplexed her.

Why was he doing this? Did he think there was some score to settle? Some rematch to be had? A battle of wits that he intended to enter with a stacked deck so as not to be made a fool of for a second time? This was her life he was messing with – her sanity, even. She could not even count how many nights she had laid awake in bed and stared at the ceiling, afraid of what sensual, thrilling things might be lurking behind her eyelids. That was what disturbed her most about them: they weren't entirely unpleasant. She had gotten to know dream-Jareth quite well had found him to be very different from the villain she remembered. While she slept, they had walked the labyrinth together, flanked on both sides by vine-covered walls sporting fragrant yellow blooms. They had swum in a lake outside the Goblin City and picnicked on fruit and cheese and sweet wine on the shore. He had sung to her and recited sonnets to her and waltzed with her on a marble terrace under the watchful eye of a silver moon. Why would he send her those dreams? What sick sort of game was he playing at?

The owl hooted again and Sarah marched over to it angrily.

"Jareth?" she accused, feeling only slightly stupid for conversing with a bird. The owl cocked its head at her and fluffed its wings.

"Look. I want you to leave me alone. I know you've been messing with me and I want you to stop. I won, you lost. It's time for both of us to move on, don't you think? Find someone else to torment."

The owl screeched then – a sound Sarah had never heard before, almost like a laugh. Suddenly, the bird took off from the branch it had been perched on and flew at the girl. It narrowly missed her as she ducked and covered her hair. She whirled around to watch the owl fly off toward the horizon, screeching all the way until it vanished from her sight. She stood dazed for a moment, then slowly backed away and ran toward home.


	3. Chapter 2

Sarah had spent the rest of her day puttering about the house, wandering aimlessly from room to room with no real desire to do anything in particular. Her pre-dawn avian visitor had made her extremely uneasy and she found it difficult to concentrate on any one thing for more than a few moments at a time. Luckily, her father and Karen had taken Toby out of town to visit Karen's parents over the weekend, so she didn't have to explain her foul mood or skittish demeanor to anyone. She really and truly just felt like being alone, and she was grateful for the opportunity to do so uninterrupted.

The girl flopped down into a chair in the parlor, warming her bare feet by the fireplace. She stared into the red-orange flames and listened to the dry logs hiss and pop. All morning she had tried to busy herself with little mundane tasks: washing dishes, scrubbing the kitchen floor, re-organizing the junk drawer. She had finally run out of steam and found herself fighting sleep as the warmth from the hearth enveloped her like a security blanket. Her eyelids felt weighted with lead as she stifled a yawn and watched the shadows from the fire dance on the walls. Curled up in the oversized chair, Sarah finally succumbed to the sleep she had desperately been trying to avoid. She did not notice the large golden barn owl watching her through the picture window from its perch on the sill outside.

_"Jareth? Are you here?" her voice echoed back to her, bouncing off the cold, damp walls surrounding her. She recognized where she was instantly – it was the tunnel that she and Hoggle had run from the cleaners in after she had told the Goblin King his labyrinth was a piece of cake. None of her dreams had ever taken place here before; in fact, most of them had been in parts of the labyrinth and Goblin City that she hadn't actually come across during her time in the Underground. She looked to her feet and saw a small rut in the sandy floor where the crystal had rolled along and led her to… _

_She followed the mark around the corner with a small smile on her face. She stopped short and her smile faded when she was greeted by a tall man with curly blonde hair and clear grey eyes. "You… you're not Jareth," she stammered._

_The man's eyes gleamed and he shoved away from the wall he had been leaning against. He wore cream colored breeches and a black doublet trimmed in silver over a white poet's shirt, and as he stalked toward her she couldn't help but notice the resemblance to the Goblin King: the fluid, panther-like movements, the lean yet muscular body, the high cheekbones and full lips that seemed to be drawn in a permanent smirk._

_The man gazed at her intently and said, "No, I am not Jareth. But you are Sarah. The Sarah. I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance." He sounded amused and intrigued, his voice lightly accented and haughty._

_"How do you know me? Who are you and why are you in my dream?" the girl demanded._

_The man touched a hand to his chest and bowed dramatically. "I am Jeriah, Lord of Westbrook."_

_"Okay… Jeriah, Lord of Westbrook, how do you know me? Why are you here instead of Jareth?"_

_Jeriah straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. His expression became serious and he began to stalk circles around the shivering girl. "I know you, Sarah, because you have taken someone very dear to me and turned them into a person I barely recognize. Jareth is not here because he did not commission this dream. I did. He knows nothing of what is taking place here and it would serve you well to make sure it stays that way. Do you understand?"_

_Sarah gulped and nodded, hugging her arms around herself protectively. The man eyed her thoughtfully and continued to pace._

_"The Goblin King is my brother, you see, and we were once very close, but things have changed. Do you know what caused these changes?" Sarah said nothing and stared at the floor. "You did," he said, "You. You stormed into his kingdom, made demands of him left and right, left his labyrinth in shambles, turned his subjects against him, nearly leveled the Goblin City and his castle with it and then went back to your books and playthings without so much as a backward glance. All this at the tender age of fifteen. What a destructive little thing you were, so careless with the wants and needs of others in the pursuit of your own."_

_Sarah flinched at the accusations but could not deny the truth of them. She said timidly, "I had to do all of those things to rescue Toby. I didn't want to cause all that trouble, but I had to. I didn't have a choice. Why can't anyone understand that?"_

_Jeriah stopped pacing and stood before her, arms crossed over his chest. "Sarah, we all have choices. You chose to forfeit young Toby to the goblins when he wouldn't stop crying, though you could have chosen to sing him a lullaby instead. Jareth chose to allow you a chance to retrieve your brother, though he was well within his rights as Goblin King to simply take the baby and leave you behind. Why do you think he made the choice he did?"_

_The girl paused and bit her lip. "I don't know. I've never understood that part," she admitted quietly._

_The Goblin King's brother sighed. He had hoped the girl would be ready to admit her feelings for Jareth and in turn be mature enough to finally accept how he felt about her, but it appeared that the situation was more delicate than he had originally thought. He would have to weave a very careful web to get the two of them together._

_"There is much you don't understand, I'm afraid. Would you like to?"_

_Sarah frowned. "To what? Understand? How?"_

_"It's a yes or no question, Sarah. Would you like to understand or not?"_

_She looked at her feet and kicked the sandy floor. Ever since she had rescued Toby and come back home from the Underground, she had felt as though there was some unfinished business between her and Jareth. She needed answers about the intimate dreams and the things he had said to her in those fateful last moments before she had renounced his power over her. Looking at the man's brother as he stood before her, his eyebrow raised in question, she guessed this would be the one and only chance she'd ever get at finding closure. She found herself terrified yet exhilarated by whatever lay ahead._

_She cleared her throat and tried to stand a little straighter. "Alright. Yes. I want to understand."_

_Jeriah grinned and reached for the girl's hand. "Excellent," he said, "Hold on tightly, now."_

Jareth lay in his bed, head resting on his hands, staring up at the dark velvet canopy above him. As of late his nights were usually long and sleepless. At first he had tried to use this newfound spare time to get important kingdom work done but had quickly found his mind drifting to a certain someone. So, he had finally resigned himself to the inevitable and let his thoughts wander.

His daytime musings were innocent enough: the way her hair parted off to the side of its own volition even when she pushed it straight back from her face, the deep dimples that appeared on her cheeks when she found something particularly amusing, how elegant and innocent she had looked when they had waltzed in the crystal ballroom and how perfectly his hand had fit around her waist like two interlocking puzzle pieces. At night, however, as he lay in his bedchamber, the smooth silk sheets caressing his nude form, his thoughts took on a darker climate.

He closed his eyes and conjured a vision of her writhing in pleasure beneath him, panting into his ear and begging for more as he used his body to show her how much he loved her. He could hear her cries of pleasure and feel her nails raking down his back with each deep thrust. He would watch his woman's face as he brought her to a climax and would pepper her neck and shoulders with kisses as he reached his own. He would be the only man to ever see her like that, completely uninhibited and satisfied as she had never been before. She would lie in his arms and tell him that she feared and loved him, and he would vow to be her slave for eternity.

The Goblin King was brought back to reality by a cool wetness on his lower abdomen. He groaned and pushed back the sheets; he hadn't even realized he'd been touching himself, though it wasn't the first time it had happened by a long shot. Many a night had he spent his seed into his own hand, using his overactive imagination as a surrogate for the real thing. He went over to the large in-ground tub and stepped down into the water. He rested his arms on the edge and closed his eyes with a sigh. He needed to come up with a plan to get Sarah to surrender to him, and quickly – Jareth wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to keep himself company.

"Lord Jeriah? Where are we now?" Sarah asked as she looked about. She was now standing in the kitchen of a small cabin. There was a large pot of some divine smelling concoction busily simmering over a fire in the corner and she noticed potatoes and bulbs of garlic strung about.

"Why, we are in the Goblin City, of course. A friend of mine has so graciously allowed us to use her home for as long as we need." Jeriah grinned and strolled over to the craggy wooden table in the middle of the room and perched a hip on it.

"This isn't a dream anymore, is it?" the girl asked.

"Nay. I could not risk taking you to the castle; I don't want Jareth to know you're here yet and, droll as he may be as of late, nothing gets in or out of his domicile without his knowledge."

"Jareth doesn't know I'm here? Won't he be angry when he finds out you've been helping me sneak around the same city I nearly destroyed?" Sarah hung her head as she recalled the battle that had taken place between her, her friends, and the denizens of the Goblin City.

Jeriah smirked. "Sarah, by the time you and I are through here, our dear Jareth will be too busy to be angry. He will undoubtedly be feeling a lot of interesting emotions, but I do not think anger will be among them. Trust me on this much at least, will you?" He cracked his knuckles and winked.

She gulped. "O..okay. So, what exactly do you have planned?"

"Why don't you have a seat, darling? There are many things I wish to tell you and many things you will hear that you probably won't believe. I am a master of many things but doctoring concussions is not one of them, should you faint and dash that pretty little head of yours."

Sarah eyed him curiously for a moment and cautiously moved to sit on one of the chairs at the table. She cleared her throat and said, "Okay. Tell me."

The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "First, I will ask you this: do you remember well the little book that you read from so often? The one with the red leather cover and gold embossed title?"

She frowned. What did he think she was, an idiot? "Of course. The Labyrinth. It's how I knew how to call the goblins to take Toby." Her cheeks flushed red with shame.

"Just so. Now, tell me, can you recall _why_ you were able to summon the goblins to take your brother?" Jeriah eyed her intently, his grey eyes gleaming with mirth. He couldn't wait to see the recognition dawn on her face, or to hear the harebrained excuses she was sure to come up with, rather than just admitting the truth of it.

"Jareth, I mean, the Goblin King, was… he was, um… he uh, he loved me, I mean, the girl, the girl in the story, and so he gave her um, special powers, the uh – the power to call on the goblins, for one. Right? That's how it went, right? Oh, I haven't read it in so long… he loved her, I guess," she stammered. She was completely flustered and began to gnaw on her thumbnail, refusing to look Jeriah in the eye. The king's brother used every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from bursting out into laughter at the way she was fumbling over her words. She knew damn well what the tale said, just like she knew that Jareth was the mythical king from her storybook, and that she was the object of his affections.

"Very good, Sarah. Jareth loves you. I'm glad we've reached that conclusion. Now, are _you_ ready to admit how you feel about _him_?"

Sarah stood up abruptly and knocked her chair over in the process. "What? No! No. It's just a book, a story for kids to scare them into behaving. Jareth doesn't love me and I… I don't know how I feel about him, really, but it sure isn't love. All he did was argue with and distract me when I was here. He manipulated me and tried to turn my brother into a goblin, for Pete's sake! He made Hoggle drug me with that peach and stole time from me when I started gaining the upper hand. He's a sore loser and a cheat and a liar! I don't love him and I don't even care how he feels about me! Why are you doing this to me?" She felt tears pricking at her eyes and wiped them away angrily with her sleeve. She stormed out of the kitchen and threw herself onto a leather settee in the next room.

Jeriah felt pity for the girl, and for his fool brother. The great Goblin King had really gone and made a mess of things. He had wanted so badly to possess this girl that he had sorely underestimated her resolve, and when she had actually solved his labyrinth and bested him at his own game it had been too late for him to backpedal with all his frilly words of devotion. He had already lost Sarah's trust, and she was so weary of all the illusions and puzzles that she hadn't even listened to him. She had been bound and determined to go back home and had simply plunged through the script from her storybook without considering what was being offered to her. The abrupt end of their time together had left them both feeling empty and confused, yet neither of them was quite willing to admit they had erred. With a sigh, the man stalked after the girl and found her prostrated on the settee, sobbing into her arms. He sat beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. He frowned as she stiffened under his touch.

"Sarah… please listen to me," he said gently, "I know this is hard for you to hear and maybe impossible for you to grasp, but Jareth really does care for you, even if he's painfully inept at showing it. Think, for a moment, not of all the treachery and deceit, but of the great lengths he went through to bend to your every whim. You and my brother are very much alike in more ways than one, you know. For every instance in which you feel he slighted or tricked you, he too feels resentment toward you for your ungratefulness and presumptions." Sarah looked at him and made to protest, but Jeriah stilled her with a shake of his head.

"There is much more I wish to say to you, but there are things you need to hear from Jareth first. What better way to understand everything than for it to come straight from the ass's mouth?" He smiled at the girl and felt his heart flutter as she ventured a shy smile back at him. Though her hair was mussed and her cheeks stained with tears, he couldn't deny that she was an extraordinarily beautiful girl. In that moment, he finally understood exactly why his little brother was so infatuated with her, and even felt a minute twinge of jealousy that he had gotten to her first. He cupped her cheek and swiped her tears away with his thumb. His breath caught in his throat as she stared at him wide eyed from beneath thick ebony lashes.

He coughed and drew his hand back. "Now now, no more crying. I'll not have you shed another tear over that whelp and his cruel games. Enough talk of him for now. Will you permit me the pleasure of trying to cheer you up?" She blushed and nodded, and he felt his resolve crumble even more. Gods help him, he was actually starting to like this girl.

"Jareth holds an annual ball at his castle to celebrate the autumnal equinox, which is tomorrow evening. You will accompany me, and he will be extremely jealous and try to take you from me the first chance he gets, but neither of you would dare make a scene in front of all the important lords and ladies that are sure to be there. You will both be on your best behavior and will have plenty of time to get re-acquainted while you drink and dance. Am I a genius, or what?"

Sarah blanched. "That was your attempt at making me feel better? This will be the first time I've seen Jareth in three years, and you want it to be in a public place in front of a bunch of strangers? He'll be furious!"

Jeriah chuckled. "Perhaps, but as I said, there will be nothing for him to do about it. He will simply have to put on his big boy breeches and handle the situation gracefully. It really is a perfect plan. I cannot wait to see his face when he sees me stroll in with a beautiful woman on my arm, only to realize it is _you_."

Sarah scoffed and rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the blush she felt creeping up her neck. "Oh, please. I'm just a girl, and a mortal one at that. I'm sure I pale in comparison to some of the Fae women he's courted over the years. I doubt he'll even look my way…"

"Do not speak of yourself in such a way, Sarah," Jeriah admonished, "You are not the lanky little girl you were when you ran the labyrinth. You are a beautiful young woman now. Besides that, how could anyone resist you while you are wearing this?" He waved a hand, and where there had been only an empty corner before, an intricate midnight blue gown hung on a dress form. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a corseted bodice studded with hundreds of tiny crystals that glittered in the firelight. The crystals faded down into the massive folds of silk and tulle that made up the skirt. Sarah caught her mouth hanging open as she admired it and quickly shut it, though not before Jeriah could take notice. He smiled to himself.

"Do you like it?" he asked. She nodded wordlessly and got up to take a better look. She ran her hands reverently over the expensive fabric and turned to Jeriah.

"It's amazing," she sighed. "Do you really think this will work? He really wants to see me?"

"Oh, yes." His reply was succinct and laced with amusement. Neither of them spoke for a while, Sarah marveling at the feel of the tiny jewels skimming her palms, and the king's brother contentedly watching his young charge. He finally cleared his throat and the girl turned to him.

"Well, my dear Sarah, I must leave you for now. Please, make yourself comfortable here. I will have someone check on you in the morning and help you to prepare for the ball, and I will see you tomorrow evening just after dusk." He rose and headed for the door, but stopped when he felt a small hand on his elbow. He looked down at the girl patiently.

"T..thank you, Lord Jeriah. I still don't really understand all of this and part of me is just waiting to wake up, but all the same, I appreciate whatever it is you're trying to do for me. For what it's worth, I do trust you." She smiled, and the man could not help but smile back.

"It is my pleasure, lovely girl. Eat something and rest well. Until the morrow." He bowed and kissed her hand, then stepped outside and simply vanished from sight. Sarah shook her head at his unexpected method of departure and locked the door behind him. Now that she was alone, she realized she was ravenous and, as if on cue, her stomach let forth a sound that would have been quite embarrassing if anyone else had been around to hear it. She went back to the kitchen and rummaged through the wooden shelves until she found a spoon and bowl and ladled herself some stew. Three bowls of the heavenly elixir later and she found herself lying on a simple yet surprisingly comfortable straw bed. She pulled the coverlet up to her chin and stared at the ceiling.

Most people lived their entire lives without even being able to fathom that a place like the Underground existed. Sarah was not only a believer, but had been there now not just once but twice. She had made it through the labyrinth to the castle beyond the Goblin City, rescued her baby brother, made friends with some of the oddest creatures the land had to offer, and had somehow through all of it managed to catch the eye of the most attractive, captivating, and frightening man she had ever met. Longing flooded Sarah as she lay alone in the warm bed, thinking of him.

She thought of how safe she had felt in his arms as he had sung to her and led her around the crystal ballroom, and how if anything less than her brother's life had been at stake, she would have been perfectly content to remain in that moment forever. She remembered his scent, musky and earthy and so commandingly masculine that it seemed to call to some wanton feminine energy that lay dormant deep within her. Sarah had always been a very reserved, introverted girl, and had made it all through her teenage years without being intimate with a boy. She was as inexperienced as they came and simply thinking about the gallant Goblin King's lithe, muscular body and how perfectly he filled out the tight breeches he was keen to wear made her yearn for things she had yet to experience.

She buried her head in the soft feather pillow and groaned with frustration. It did her no good to think of these things, so why did she always insist upon it? She forced the images from her mind and decided to try counting sheep instead. She made it to one hundred sheep before the sheep turned into goblins, and another hundred goblins later, she had finally succumbed to her exhaustion.


End file.
